


tangled (like bedcovers)

by renecdote



Category: Leverage
Genre: Eliots needs a hug, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, They also just need to sit down and talk about their feelings, sort of lol - Freeform, very minor angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renecdote/pseuds/renecdote
Summary: “Why d’you gotta go home? We’ve got a bed.”Even knowing it won’t be seen in the dark, Eliot can’t help the twitch of his eyebrow.“A spare bed,” Hardison clarifies. “Shuddup, E, you know what I meant."
Comments: 8
Kudos: 38





	tangled (like bedcovers)

**Author's Note:**

> Another tumblr prompt fill (this time for "Stop being difficult" and "Where do you think you're going?") that I am only just getting around to posting here.

Eliot is reaching for the door handle when a sleepy voice says, “Where do you think you’re going?”

He looks back through the dark maze of tables to see Hardison by the bar, listing slightly to the side as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. It makes Eliot frown; he obviously wasn’t quiet enough sneaking out.

Not that _sneaking_ is the right word for it. Sneaking implies that he shouldn’t have been doing it, that he’s guilty of something. But he’s not guilty; and he wasn’t _sneaking_ , he was just leaving.

“I’m going home.”

Hardison makes an unintelligible sound. “Don’ be stupid, man, it’s the middle of the night.”

“That’s why I’m going home,” Eliot points out. “Busy day tomorrow, remember? Not only all of us can live off coffee and energy drinks.”

“That’s not—" Hardison interrupts himself with a yawn. He shakes his head, like his brain is a wind-up clock or something and all he has to do is rattle it to wake himself up. “That’s not what I’m saying,” he continues. “I’m _saying_ why d’you gotta go home? We’ve got a bed.”

Even knowing it won’t be seen in the dark, Eliot can’t help the twitch of his eyebrow. 

“A spare bed,” Hardison clarifies. “Shuddup, E, you know what I meant. ‘Sides—" Another yawn. “—Parker is a blanket hog, you wouldn’ wanna share with her anyway.”

Eliot knows for a fact that Hardison is the real blanket hog. But he just says, “Uh huh. Does your spare bed actually have clean sheets on it?”

“Now you’re just being difficult.”

Maybe a little bit. Eliot can’t deny that staying at the brewpub is a tempting idea. It would mean an extra hour of sleep, at the very least, and if he doesn’t have to make the trip back across the city, he’ll probably have time to make breakfast for everyone in the morning. Omelettes maybe. Or pancakes, if Parker is up early enough to twist his arm.

(Not that she ever has to twist very hard—and they both know it.)

He must be silent for too long because Hardison’s voice is almost hesitant when he presses, “Is there a reason you don’t want to stay?”

Is there a reason? 

Yes, hundreds of them.

“No,” Eliot says. Those reasons are like Swiss cheese anyway; the longer he looks at them, the more holes they get. 

And it’s not that he doesn’t _want_ to stay, it’s just–

It’s a lot of things. Too many things. He’s never been in one place this long—not since he left home at eighteen—and even though they’ve moved around a few times in the last four years, it’s still been them. Still been the same heart-place if not the same physical one.

“Come on,” Hardison says—and the way he says it is like it’s a forgone conclusion that Eliot will, in fact, come. “It’s late. Jus’ take the bed.”

He shouldn’t. 

Really, he shouldn’t. It’ll set a—a precedent, or something.

Eliot sighs. 

“Fine.”

The flash of headlights from a passing car brightens the room just long enough for him to see Hardison’s sudden grin. And dammed if that doesn’t make Eliot’s heart do—things. Uncomfortably mushy things.

He trudges back toward the apartment. And he makes sure to grumble while he does it, so that Hardison doesn’t get the wrong idea (or the right one) about him being happy to stay.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr is [here](https://renecdote.tumblr.com/) :)


End file.
